


Bits and Pieces

by Diablogarbage



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-04-04 07:06:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 18,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14014872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diablogarbage/pseuds/Diablogarbage
Summary: literally just a string of non-related mortal kombat ship stuffall of which besides subsmoke are unknown oop





	1. Cytor stuff

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhh i'll take requests within reason tbh

The scuffed yellow cyborg glanced to his partner cyborg—a metallic red one with glowing blue eyes reminiscent of a pale blue river under a setting summer's sun—and then down to the male in his arms. A pale man with black hair like a raven's wing in the night, and a beard to certaintly be proud of. Upon his right eye was a scar that once surely fountained crimson human-blood. When open, his eyes were a beautiful ice blue, nearly indifferent from the whites of his eye. He was well muscled, and ice crept upon his thick arms.  
Yet, he had been dangerously unconscious.  
"Hou... Do you think they will accept us?" The yellow robot asked hesitaintly after a moment. The red cyborg skipped beat before replying.  
"I don't know, Fenyang," he admitted. "They once knew us as Sektor and Cyrax, two of their best. Now they know us as machines of murder and destruction." He paused to laugh bitterly. "But I suppose that's all we really are now, isn't it?"  
This caused the first—Cyrax—to wince.  
"Don't think like that, Hou... We helped save their grandmaster. Our friend."  
Sektor inclined his head slightly to the side, implying an eyebrow being raised. "You really think that they'll believe that when we come prancing to the doors of the temple, holding his limp body? By the Gods, they'll most likely think we killed him!"  
Another wince from Cyrax. "I'm sure that they'll know we were doing no harm. He shows no injury, now does he?"  
Sektor merely shook his head. "Tsk, tsk. Dearest Fenyang, as much as I admire your constant attempts at having faith... Sometimes it's misplaced. We cyborgs can easily deal damage that is not external, but is internal, rather. They know this. For all they might believe, we have killed him and are merely delivering his corpse."  
Cyrax sighed. "I, the optimist, and you—the pessimist."  
Sektor made to respond, but merely let his words form into a sigh as he looked up. The temple was near.  
And there were people outside.  
"What have we to lose?" He laughed bitterly, and Cyrax averted his gaze from both the temple, and his cynical lover.  
"Do you truly have no belief that they will be accepting towards us?" He asked in a small voice.  
Sektor glanced to him, and was hit with a pang of guilt. He knew how much this all meant to Cyrax. He knew how much his lover—his best friend—simply wished to be accepted into the Lin Kuei as it once was.  
He also knew it was not to be.  
"I'm sorry, Fenyang," he said carefully after a moment.  
Cyrax only numbly nodded.  
Sektor cursed when two of the more prominent ones noticed the pair of them (and then realized it was highly rhetorical; who was bound to miss two tall cyborgs, one red and one yellow, upon the fresh white snow?). One was midnight black, with midnight black skin, and the other was a girl with crimson hair (I wasn't aware that the Lin Kuei allowed it's members to dye their hair, Sektor thought to himself) and fairly pale skin, adorned in white.  
Cyrax whimpered in fear—neither party seemed friendly.  
Sektor recoiled in confusion as the man disappeared, and as the female advanced threateningly towards them with no weapons visible anywhere.  
Cyrax took a hesitant step back; the female was oddly unsettling. Perhaps it was the inhuman green of her eyes, or how horribly fang-like her teeth seemed. Perhaps it was the near animalistic way she held herself. Or, the way her eyes never left them. Never blinked.  
Sektor let out a surprised, choked cough as he felt himself roughly pulled back, and a dagger pressed to his neck.  
"Why do you have my brother," his attacker, clearly the man, demanded.  
"B-Bi-Han? I thought you-?" Sektor sputtered.  
"Quan Chi restored me," the man spat. "However, Bi-Han is dead. I am Noob Saibot."  
Sektor growled, finding himself unable to retaliate in any way; as his arms were full, and he saw the female advancing on Cyrax.  
"If you were with Quan Chi, why are you in the Lin Kuei?" Sektor spat.  
"I broke free of his curse. Give me my brother, and you and Mustard will leave with little to no harm done," Noob Saibot growled in his dark, arresting voice as he pressed the dagger more to his throat.  
Cyrax glanced to this, backing away a little more. A terrified squeak was torn from his throat as the female began to literally melt away. Her flesh began to melt from her body, but she still came for him, like some hideous, amorphous blob demon straight out of a nightmare. Blood was covering her body now, and it nearly seemed what was left has begun to change colour, to orange.  
And then, all at once, there was no more melting.  
There was a massive, angry tiger.  
"A shapeshifter...?" Cyrax managed before the cat suddenly leaped at him, mouth open and claws extended.  
Narrowly did he sidestep, hissing in more surprise than pain (pain? what is pain? he asked himself. i haven't felt it in so long, but gods, please don't let me start now) when a long, black claw tore across his arm, causing it to leak oil.  
The cat skidded in the snow before turning around and crouching to pounce again, tail lashing from side to side angrily.  
"If you were with Quan Chi once, I cannot trust you with the grandmaster," Sektor hissed.  
All at once, pain flashed across his throat, and then  
Nothing.  
Cyrax yelped in sheer suprise as he watched the shadowy male run his dagger across Sektor's throat, and as Sektor fell.  
The shadowy man simply caught Sub-Zero before he could hit the ground.  
No longer caring if he was mauled (as everything had suddenly gone very blank and hazy), Cyrax made his way to Sektor before dropping to his knees.  
"Oh, Gods... Sektor... Oh Gods," he whispered, finding that his hands were shaking.  
When he looked up stairs, the tiger was once again a beautiful and yet unsettling female, staring hatefully down at him.  
"Leave these premises," she demanded. "You and your foul comrade."  
Cyrax merely averted his gaze, lowering his head again.  
"If you must kill me, I only ask you do it quickly," he whispered.  
The shadowy man scoffed. "Pitiful." He then turned to look to the female. "Come, Imperium. We should bring Sub-Zero inside to assess his injuries."  
The girl nodded. "Of course, Noob."  
With that, the two simply walked away, leaving Cyrax and Sektor.  
Cyrax lifted a hand to Sektor's face, gently cupping it. There was no light burning in his blue eyes.  
"Oh, Sektor... I wish I had listened to you," Cyrax whispered. He would not leave until forced to. And he would not leave without Sektor.  
For days, he sat there, servos and joints growing stiffer and freezing up. None of the Lin Kuei paid him any mind. He was no threat.  
On the third day, he felt a strong, firm hand upon his shoulder. Just barely was he able to turn his head to look, and when he saw its owner he nearly fainted.  
Kuai.  
"How long have you been here?" The man asked, kneeling beside him. "Your joints are all frozen up."  
"Three days," Cyrax managed, voice glitching.  
"Ah." Kuai looked over Sektor, his face neutral. "I heard you two were in a scuffle with some of the Lin Kuei members?"  
Cyrax nodded. "Yes. Your... Your brother, he-..."  
"Sektor is not dead," Kuai calmly said. "My brother merely rendered him unconscious. May I?"  
Cyrax nodded a little, and Kuai began to tamper with the wires on Sektor's neck. After a mere moment, the fierce blue fire glowed back into his eyes, and for one horrible moment Cyrax was scared that he would be as he once was; without humanity.  
"So," Sektor murmured after a moment, gently bringing a hand up and stroking Cyrax's cheek, "you stayed with me, Fenyang?"  
Instantly, Cyrax threw himself upon Sektor, burying his face into his neck and allowing himself to sob. As Sektor curled his arms gently around Cyrax's torso, Kuai watched with satisfaction.  
"We should get the two of you indoors, where it is far warmer and your joints can thaw. Perhaps then you might once rejoin is, if your are willing."  
Sektor glanced to Kuai and snorted.  
"If we are willing? We both are, but what of your clan? The girl and your brother certaintly did not take a liking to us."  
"Leah and my brother will be of no consequence," Kuai affirmed. He then stood, arching a brow as Cyrax reluctantly peeled himself off of Sektor. He then offered a hand to the cyborg. "Would you like some help up?" He asked.  
Cyrax took his hand gratefully and stood himself, then helped Sektor stand. Gently, Sektor leaned on Cyrax, and the three of them together walked into the temple.  
The inside of the temple was warm, and Kuai allowed them to stop at a large torch and warm themselves.  
"Where are we going?" Sektor asked when they were walking once again.  
"To the throne room," Kuai answered calmly.  
Cyrax glanced to Sektor and tilted his head to the side, indicating his confusion, and Sektor merely shrugged.  
After a large flight of stairs, they came to the throne room. The throne was made of solid ice, and much to the cyborgs confusion, Kuai sat in it, facing them.  
"Sektor. Cyrax. You two wish to join the Lin Kuei once again."  
With some giddy excitement barely contained, Cyrax realized that this was some sort of initiation.  
"Yes," he breathed, and Sektor merely nodded.  
Kuai leaned forward slightly. It was clear that he had done this a million times with a million other, as he nearly seemed bored.  
"You both swear to dedicate yourselves and your lives to the Lin Kuei?"  
"Yes," Cyrax breathed again, and, once again, Sektor simply nodded.  
"We have never had cyborgs in our ranks, before," Kuai murmured. "You will serve us well..."  
Cyrax held his breath in anticipation.  
In his hands, Kuai skillfully created a small jar made of ice.  
"This is rather, ah... Brutal, I suppose. Cut your palms and allow some of your blood to drip into this jar."  
While Cyrax wished to question, he dared not, and simply brought a small sawblade out, while Sektor simply took one of his pulse blades, and together they slit their palms, allowing the black, tar-like oil to drip into the jar with little plipping noises.  
When Kuai was satisfied, he drew the jar back, and froze the top closed, looking between the two tense cyborgs. He then allowed a warm smile to break across his face.  
"Welcome home."


	2. Cytor angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oops

From the darkness, two green eyes glowed about, looking out at the darkened woodlands and the moon that reflected off of the snow, creating beautiful, milky patterns.  
The owner of the eyes tore them from staring, dipping his head downwards with a metallic, robotic sigh.   
His left eye dimmed, flickered for a moment, before burning out.  
Looking down at his hands, he sighed again, flexing his fingers. They were once soft skin. Now they were simply yellow scuffed metal plating. Now, they were mere robotic parts. No bone, flesh, muscle, or blood ran about them. no blood coursed through his veins. Only the black, corrupted tar called oil.   
After a moment, he looked up and caught sight of his reflection in a mirror. Wordlessly, he brought the metal heel of his hand up to slam against the side of his head. With a loud, painful sound—metal on metal—his eye flicked back to life.  
He felt no pain.  
Raising a hand to his cheek (the metal platings once known as his cheek, if you rather), he traced each dip and scratch with a thin finger.  
Oh, how he missed his old self.  
His humanity.  
But oh, how much even more did he miss the one who once called him his true love—the one that once told him that he was always going to be protected and loved.  
That man was gone.  
Replaced by a cyborg. A soulless killing machine.  
Sektor, he—  
His thoughts were interrupted by a throbbing pain through what little was left of his organic self, beneath all of that metal, and an automated voice screamed at him in his mind: "Unit number LK-9D9."  
Sek—  
"Unit number LK-9D9."  
With an angry (though frankly more pained and saddened) sigh, the male gave up.   
Who am I? He wondered to himself, looking from his metal-plated hands to his reflection in the mirror. Without an organic body? Without my humanity? Who—what—am I? A pawn? A mere tool?  
The automated voice responded in a near smug tone: "You are Unit Number LK-4D4. You serve Grandmaster Unit Number LK-9D9. Those who leave the Lin Kuei die. We are the Lin Kuei. More stealthy than the night. More deadly than the dawn."  
4D4 winced at this voice. It drilled into his mind and very thoughts constantly. What had he been thinking about? He couldn't remember, now. But a name lingered at the back of his mind, like an itch just out of reach (What is an itch, again? He wondered to himself). It started with a C. Cy-? Cyrah...?   
Cyrax.  
That was his name.  
Cyrax.  
But that was not his true name, was it?  
Come on... Think, dammit.   
Fen...  
Feh...  
Fen—something. But what?  
By now, the automated voice screamed in his mind, repeating the simply phrase "Unit Number LK-4D4," over and over and over and over and over and over and over and  
Fenyang.  
That was it.  
Fenyang Nhuru.  
All at once, the cyborg felt a wave of tremendous pain hit him, and he stumbled, nearly falling as he clutched his head in pain. By the Elder Gods, what was causing it? It wasn't the voice. Certainly not; the voice had glitched horribly (leaving a permanent imprint of the sound in his mind, thank you very much) before simply cutting off into a static, and then  
Nothing.  
All at once, colour and vision rushed into 4D4's throbbing mind. Ice on a leaf. Smoke in a fire. The flames of a flamethrower. Water in the plants.  
What did all of this mean?  
Then he began to see fuzzy faces and people.  
A stern, tall man, very pale and bursting with muscles, dressed in blue. His hair was raven black, and fell to his shoulder blades.   
A younger male beside him, not as tall, nor as well muscled, with short black hair as dark as the elder's. Brothers, he figured. To the taller male's right was another man in blue. Blonde, somewhat short hair. Slight freckles. Green(?) eyes. Another male seemingly made from smoke. Brilliant, flowing silver hair. Golden, but playful eyes. Paler than either two men with black hair.  
A somewhat more tan male with his black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Arresting, grey eyes. Red and black attire. Wrist mounted flamethrowers.   
Where had he seen that before?  
Think... Think... Cyruh... Cyrax. Right. Think.  
Sektor? No, it couldn't be, he supposed, still trying to make sense of this all.  
All at once, everything changed, and the cyborg watched as an African man dressed in yellow and black leaned against a stone wall, holding a flower in his hand. The male was well muscled and intimidating, but clearly was gentle and kind.  
The man smiled slightly as a butterfly lightly fluttered past him, before landing on his shoulder.  
The cyborg was confused. He felt a very familiar aura from this male, but he could not put his sensors on it. Who was he?  
The African glanced up as a white dove settled upon the branch of a tree just above him. While his belt had bombs on them (hand-crafted! the cyborg remarked to himself. He must be talented, to do such a thing), he reached down, and produced from a small pouch some birdseed. Settling the seed on his palm, he lifted it, and smiled brightly as the dove glanced to his hand, cocking it's snowy white head to the side before inching across the branch to his hand. For a moment it studied him with soft blue eyes before skillfully pecking the seeds from his hand—each peck could clearly harm, but not once did it ever harm the man in question.   
When the seed was gone, the dark-skinned male slowly lowered his hand, and the bird merely chirped.  
From just behind a shimmering waterfall that fell into a pond of Koi, the same man in red and black entered.  
What significance did this man have? The cyborg did not know.  
The dark male looked up and offered a bright smile to the Asian male, who in turn smiled back.  
Bringing his hand to his shoulder, the African smiled as the butterfly milled to his finger. Lifting his arm into the air, he watched as the butterfly took to it's wings again, graceful as the dove.  
The Asian watched this with what seemed to be amusement before gently bringing the African into an embrace.  
Perhaps they are family, the cyborg reasoned with himself, quite utterly perplexed. Who's memories were these? Were they his? If not, then who's?  
His theory of them being family, however, was swept to the side when the Asian pressed his lips to the other male's cheek, in a way that suggested much more intimacy than a family tradition.  
The darker male gladly hugged the other man in return, smiling brightly at the kiss.  
"I missed you," he said, voice soft and sincere.  
"Just as I missed you," his partner (romantic? the cyborg questioned to himself; for who was else to question?) mused, recoiling just enough to cup his face.  
"How was it without me?" He seemed to tease, an amused smile creeping onto his face.  
"Ah," the African male murmured, suddenly seeming bashful, and perhaps blushing as well, "it was fine enough. I didn't die, did I?"  
The Asian chuckled. "Ah, you jest. Without me, you surely would have gone on, were it too long."  
The other man (shorter, too, 4D4 noted) blushed more, seeming to smile as well. "Perhaps I would have, Hou. But I have you now, yes? My death has thus been postponed."  
Hou. The name rang a bell dimly in the cyborg's mind, but where from? Clearly, it was the name of the light male, but who was he more than a mere name? A name under the faction of the Lin Kuei?  
"A good thing, too. I would surely hate for you to die on me," the Asian—Hou—teased gently, nudging the other in the ribs. To this, the dark-skinned male let out a soft, nearly inaudible giggle, before his entire face lit red.   
"A-ah..."  
"Was that a giggle I heard, or am I suddenly losing my hearing?" Hou asked smugly, and his partner quickly shook his head.   
"What? No-no, that was not a giggle. Th-that was... A manly squeak," he said quickly, and Hou only chuckled.   
"A manly squeak, my ushiro ni," Hou teased gently. The African rolled his eyes, and the Asian sighed dramatically.   
"Come, now, Fenyang. I jest, I jest."  
This caused the cyborg's entire body to hurt.   
That was him? That surely only meant that the man named Hou was Sektor, and—ah, it was all coming back, now. Jiao Hou. That was Sektor's true name. Jiao was the family name, while Hou was his given name.  
Whatever else the pair were saying was purely drowned out to the cyborg by the pain—oh, gods the pain.  
And then it all went numb and black. He was back in the darkened room. He was no longer in a courtyard.  
His past self and his past lover were gone. Locked back up inside of his memories.  
Stumbling to the windowsill, the cyborg fell into a sitting position, hunched over, dry, metallic sobs wreathing his body.   
They didn't hurt. He didn't hurt.  
He couldn't feel anything.   
Only his own damned emotions.  
Straightening just a bit, the cyborg looked down to his chest, letting it open and reveal the deep, horrible cavity in it.  
This only caused him more sobs. Sektor had done this.  
What happened to the Sektor who once joked with him and held him close? The Sektor who told him he loved him?  
Now it was nothing. Sektor was gone. Jiao Hou was gone. It was simply a computer programmed to act like him.  
Looking down to his arm, the cyborg allowed the three taloned blades to spring forth. He could end this all now. It would be totally painless. A slit to the neck should work. Or perhaps a stab through the head. Either way, he wouldn't feel anything. Cyborgs were programmed to feel nothing.  
No.  
He wouldn't do this.  
He couldn't do this.  
Looking down to the taloned blades, the urge to jab them through his throat rose.  
But he repressed it, forcing himself to retract the blades.  
He would go on.  
Not for himself.  
But for Sektor.  
"I will get you back, Sektor," the cyborg whispered to the unhearing and uncaring moon as she shone her pale, radiant beauty across the land. "I will return you to the light, Hou. Even at the cost of my own life, even if it to be upon your own hand... I will bring you back. You will bathe in the morning sun of the right again, Hou, and kill the false light of the moon which she shines upon you like a captivating lantern to a moth. Soon, my darling... Soon."


	3. Saimac stuff ft Ermac with wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the morning after fluff type stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ermac with wings came from a dream i had and so my friend and i decided ermac used to have wings but they got torn off  
> sometimes for fluff we give him his wings back so i wrote this based on a roleplay

Noob Saibot awoke to the feeling of something incredibly soft cloaking his otherwise naked form. It was a wing—large, and a beautiful emerald green. Working an arm out from under it, Noob rested his hand on top of the wing, gently stroking it as his gaze fell on the wing's owner. The thin, frail form of Ermac sleeping beside him, cuddled up to his side brought a gentle smile to his face. Yes, he hated how sickly and frail his lover was, and yes, he hated even moreso the self inflicted cuts that were just beginning to heal around his eyes, but seeing Ermac next to him, safe and sound, made him happy.  
His eyes wandered over Ermac's also naked body, and he took in every single outline of bone, every rib he could count (which was all of them), and frowned.   
Ermac shifted closer to him in his sleep, tittering quietly, his wings quivering.  
This brought a smile back to Noob's face. Ever since Ermac had gotten his wings back, he had been in high spirits and good moods. In turn, this made Noob happy.  
Rolling onto his side, Noob ran a hand through Ermac's hair and pressed a light kiss to his forehead.  
After a minute, the wraith began to stroke Ermac's wing feathers, purring all the while. Doing this soothed him.  
He glanced to the window. It was raining lightly, but was sure to rain more later.  
Sighing in a content manner, Noob smiled. "Ah... I love you, Ermac," he murmured to the sleeping being next to him.  
The soul vessel didn't stir, but seemed to purr lightly.  
Noob continued to idly stroke his husband's wings, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he did so.  
After a minute, Ermac gave a yawning titter, and opened an eye, looking up to Noob with a smile.   
Hearing Ermac wake, Noob opened his eyes and turned so he could press a kiss to Ermac's temple. "Good morning, love," he chuckled.  
Ermac nuzzled him lightly. "Good morning to you as well, handsome."  
Noob gladly returned the nuzzle. "How did you sleep?" He questioned softly, still rubbing his lover's wings.  
"We slept well," Ermac murmured, "and what of you?"  
"I slept fine," Noob smoothly lied. In truth, he had woken from a horrid nightmare.   
Ermac normally would have caught his lie, but he was far too tired to now. "Ah... Good..." After a moment, he smiled at Noob and kissed his jaw. "Would you like to preen our wings? We noticed you have been stroking them, and we can imagine you have been since you awoke?"  
Noob nodded at this, smiling. The both of them sat up, and Ermac folded his wings against his back, purring softly. Noob kissed his cheek before beginning to run his fingers through the luscious, soft feathers, smoothing them down.  
After a few minutes of doing this, he realized that Ermac had fallen asleep once again.  
Gently he pressed an affectionate kiss to Ermac's cheek as he brought him closer so he was leaning against him, rather than slumping forward. Arranging his wings so they were in front of him, Noob continued to run his fingers through them, burying his face in the crook of Ermac's neck and closing his eyes, relishing in the moment.  
Lightly, he pressed an affectionate, loving kiss to his neck as he finished preening his wings, and when he finished he simply coiled his arms around Ermac's waist, pulling him close.   
Burying his face in the crook of Ermac's neck once more, he closed his eyes and yawned.  
Ermac was much like a Tribble from the show called Star Trek, Noob reflected. Soft, adorable, and calming.  
Noob found himself drifting off into a peaceful sleep, holding Ermac close like that.  
There were no nightmares to be had, this time.


	4. More Cytor stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i was pretty tired when i wrote this but owah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> neither of them can sleep so fluff

Daytime.  
Nighttime.  
It was all a haze to him. What was real and what wasn't.  
The nights grew longer, and the days shorter.  
Winter was coming; he knew that much.  
Life around the temple had gotten harder. As if it wasn't hard enough.  
He would watch as the seemingly always angry Bi-Han, known better as Sub-Zero, constantly grilled on his younger, and frankly less angry, brother—Kuai Liang, better known as Tundra.

He watched as Tundra's best friend (and perhaps much more than just a friend) Tomas Vrbada, better known as Smoke—the temple prankster and quite frankly probably the most upbeat person in the Lin Kuei—constantly get yelled at (and frozen once, too) by Bi-Han.  
Mission after mission after mission he was sent on, sometimes by himself and sometimes with other members of the clan. It seemed he could never be in the comfort of his own room for more than a day before another damn mission came up.  
He knew it was an honour, as he was one of the Lin Kuei's best, but it simply got tiring after months of it.  
Sub-Zero trained Tundra in cryomancy, Smoke watched and usually caused trouble, and he couldn't even stay to enjoy a cup of tea.  
Of course, he knew he wasn't the most stressed.  
His best friend, and lover as of late, Jiao Hou, better known as Sektor, was most likely much more stressed. He was the Grandmaster's son. Much was expected of him and responsibilities were piled onto him.  
Often would he be seen with dark bags under his eyes, his normally well kept hair unkempt and messy. Hell, even Sub-Zero's hair was better than his—and Sub-Zero had already given up on cutting it, and it had grown to around his shoulder blades by now, and unless he slicked or pulled it back, it hung in his face.  
He, himself, often found himself in much the same situation as he was at the moment as he allowed his mind to wander. Sektor holding him close in his strong, lightly trembling arms, trying his hardest to fall asleep.  
They both had trouble sleeping when on missions.  
"Cyrax..."  
Cyrax looked up to his lover, deep brown eyes catching the sliver of milky light cast upon them from the window, which though the shades were closed, still slipped through like searching fingers.  
The light danced gently off of his eyes.  
"We don't need codenames right now, Hou."  
Sektor sighed, looking off to the window, the light shining on his dark brown, if not black, eyes.  
"Fenyang... Why can I not sleep...? A time not too long ago, I could sleep easy when on a mission. But now I find I cannot. Do you know why?" He questioned, his deep voice a soft tone, not bothering to look from the window, as if searching for something.  
Perhaps to look at the moon, Cyrax reflected silently, his gaze turning upon the slits of light as well. Perhaps to look at the same moon that shines upon the temple, halfway across the world.  
"I have no answer for you, Hou. I can't sleep easy either," he murmured, subconsciously pressing closer to the other man, as if seeking for some comfort of familiarity.  
Sektor finally tore his gaze away from the moon with a heavy sigh, looking down to Cyrax.  
"You are so beautiful, Fenyang. Seeing the light in your eyes gives me a sense of peace. Knowing that... Of all Lin Kuei members, it is you who lays beside me on this mission."  
Cyrax offered a faint smile.  
Sektor pressed his lips momentarily to the dark assassin's forehead, smiling fondly at him.  
"I love you."  
"I love you, too, Hou," Cyrax murmured, purring lightly.  
Sektor gently lifted a hand and pushed a stray dreadlock from his Cyrax's face.  
"Let us sleep, darling. We have much work for tomorrow."  
Cyrax smiled.  
"That, we do."


	5. SubSmoke stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> au where smoke is freed from being revenant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i beg that this happens in the next game

He had been freed. He was himself again.   
He wasn't Enenra. He was Smoke.  
He was Tomas Vrbada.  
Enenra is dead. I am Smoke.  
That's what he told himself. Daily. Hourly.  
Enenra always fought for control of him.   
But he was stronger than Enenra. Or so his best friend and lover claimed.  
"I know it, Tomas," his lover—Sub-Zero, Kuai Liang—would tell him. "I know you. You're stronger than Enenra will ever be."  
Tomas often woke in the middle of the night, sobbing or screaming.  
He seldom had dreams that weren't nightmares. Kuai would always take him close into his arms and gently kiss him, murmuring comfort to him.  
He would then usually fall back into a restless sleep in his lover's arms, tossing and turning until morning broke.  
He remembered the look on Kuai's face when he had first stumbled to the temple, armour scorched—for Liu Kang had tried to kill him—golden brown eyes darting around wearily.  
He remembered seeing two Lin Kuei guards, hearing them murmur something about "telling the Grandmaster of a man in silver, with smoke coming from his body."  
He remembered seeing the same two (or, what he thought was the same two, anyway) Lin Kuei coming down the stairs, followed by a man who's face was comfort to him; Sub-Zero.  
At first, the two simply stared in disbelief at one another, before Sub-Zero dismissed the guards. When they were out of sight, he strode to the man in silver, and pulled him into a hug.  
"What happened to you, Tomas...?" He murmured.  
Tomas weakly hugged him back, coughing a little, and all he was able to rasp out was a simple, "Liu Kang."  
Kuai had pulled back enough to look at him, and so he did. The man in silver was a mess. A burn ran from the corner of his left eye down to his cheek, and his nose was bleeding.  
Tomas, meanwhile, simply admired Kuai, almost stunned at how much he had changed.  
He had certaintly gained more muscles, and the beard was certaintly a new addition. One which Tomas didn't mind at all.  
His eyes, too, were a very light, almost milky, blue. It was hard to tell the iris apart from the sclara.  
And finally, his outfit was much, much different. More... Revealing. Tomas didn't mind this, either—he always loved to admire Kuai's rolling muscles.  
Gently, Kuai reached a cold hand up and wiped away some blood from Tomas' cheek. Tomas shuddered lightly at the cold of his hand. Despite that, he gently reached one of his own, pale, shaky hands up and rested it on top of Kuai's.  
"I missed you, Kuai..." Tomas found it hurt to speak, but despite that he continued on; "Enenra... He... I was a prisoner in my own mind. In my own body. I could see... What Enenra saw. Seeing you as a revanant broke my heart. I knew that you were suffering, I—" he broke off into a coughing fit, which made Kuai wince lightly, "—I knew that somewhere in there... Was still a seed of good. No matter what happened, you always had that seed of good inside of you. When you... When you were freed... It filled me with genuine happiness. Something I hadn't felt since Enenra took my body for himself. I thought... I knew my chances of ever seeing you again were slim... But... At least you were happy," Tomas mumbled, before gently resting his head against Kuai's shoulder. "Because I loved you, and I wanted to see you happy. I still do love you, Kuai Liang."  
Kuai rubbed his back gently, so to not hurt him further, and sighed. "I hate the things I did as a revanant. It can't be forgiven. Tomas, I... It's been horrible. Despite their smiles, I still see fear in the eyes of those who I call my allies. I see them flinch back out of instinct and fear when I move. Being Grandmaster is difficult... It wasn't the same without you, here, Tomas. The pain... The regret... It all seems to lessen, at least a little, when you're by my side."  
Tomas felt his face heat up slightly. "Ah... Kuai, really..."  
Kuai chuckled faintly. "Tomas, listen to me... You've always been a stress reliever to me. A pain reliever. With you... Everything seems just a little less horrible. A little more bright. A little more bearable. It's everything about you... Your laugh, your smile, your ability to make light of even the most dreadful situations, your natural, jesting nature..."  
Tomas sighed softly, seeming less stressed, now, and more content. "You've gotten good with English, Kuai..." It was the only way he could think of to respond to his words. Perhaps it seemed cheesy, but he still wasn't in the most coherent of mindsets.  
Kuai seemed to realize this, and he checked Tomas over for wounds before simply picking him up, bridal style. Tomas weakly squeaked and clung to Kuai, looking up at him. Their eyes met, gold on blue, and Kuai smiled a little. Tomas could tell that this was a rare occurrence to see.  
Tomas smiled a little in return and rested his head against Kuai's well muscled arms, closing his eyes.  
He felt Kuai carry him up the steps, into the temple, where he felt the warm air flood upon him.  
Letting out a little sigh, he relaxed.  
He felt Kuai kneel down, and he was gently deposited onto one of the mats on the floor that served as a bed. He opened one eye, and seemed confused. This was the Grandmaster's room, so why did Kuai bring him here?   
Then he remembered Kuai was the grandmaster.  
He watched as the younger male (younger, he though to himself. That was certaintly a scary thought at the moment; Kuai was, what, in his fourties to early fifties now?) bustled around the room, gathering what looked like medical supplies.  
When he gathered what he figured was all needed, he came back to Tomas and kneeled by him, setting a cool hand on his arm.   
"I'm going to have to remove your armour to assess the damage done to your chest, alright?" He asked. Kuai had always been one for consent, even if it was simply for checking his loved ones for wounds.  
Tomas nodded slightly. It hurt to nod. "Of course you may, Kuai," he rasped.  
"Alright. Try to not speak much. If you have damage done to your throat other than some minor burns that are currently visible, you could only worsen the damage," Kuai instructed softly. Tomas nodded, and then winced.  
"Try to not move too much, either," Kuai gently urged.   
Tomas gave a faint whine.  
"I know, I know. But it won't be for long. I promise," Kuai soothed.   
Tomas let out a soft sigh and tilted his head back, closing his eyes.  
He shuddered as he felt Kuai's cold hands gently prod around his skin, removing the armour that covered his upper body slowly.   
When it was all removed, Tomas shivered lightly; this room was, while still warm, rather cold compared to the other rooms.   
Kuai ran his hand lightly across a scar on his chest. It hadn't been there since he last saw him, he reflected.  
It had, in fact, been a scar Tomas got when Enenra still kept hold of his body.  
Tomas shivered at this contact of cold flesh upon warm flesh.  
After a moment however Kuai began to busy himself with gently cleaning the wounds upon Tomas' body, wrapping them gently when they were clean.   
When he finished cleaning the wounds on his lover's upper body, he kissed his cheek lightly.  
"I'm going to have to undress you the rest of the way to check if you have any more wounds. You don't mind, do you?"  
Tomas laughed faintly. "No. Frankly, I'm not feeling any sort of desire to do anything... Lewd, let's say."  
Kuai smiled faintly, but sweetly, down at Tomas. "Alright, then," he said. With that he began to undress him the rest of the way. When finished, Kuai lightly traced the indents in his lover's hips, before checking him over for wounds. Upon finding none, he gently kissed Tomas' forehead before standing. "I can't have you in damaged armour. I'll lend you some of my old robes," he told the smoky male. He then walked to the wardrobe where outfits were kept, and pulled out an outfit that he figured would fit his friend. Returning to where Tomas lay, he began to gently dress the male in the soft blue fabrics. When he finished he simply laid beside him, and lightly pulled him against his body. Tomas lovingly cuddled into him, and smiled before pressing a kiss to his lips. While it was intended to be short, Kuai gently put a hand to the back of his head, and Tomas held the kiss, closing his eyes and letting out a small, happy sigh. With the hand not laced into Tomas' silver hair, Kuai cupped his cheek gently, and he stroked his lover's pale, smooth skin with his thumb, which was cold, but comforting to the Czech male.  
"I love you," Tomas murmured when they finally broke the kiss.  
Kuai smiled sweetly at him. "I love you too," he said in his soft voice.  
Tomas blushed, smiling. "Ah... I really do love you so much, Kuai."  
Kuai merely ruffled his hair lightly. "I love you as well."  
Tomas purred and yawned lightly. "Mmgh... I'm tired. Being chased by a flaming turkey can be a little tiring."  
Kuai chucked at this. "Then let us sleep, my love."  
And so, they slept.  
And for once, there was no nightmares to be had.


	6. You Are My Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i saw a prompt and did it

Damn it all. If only happy endings existed, he supposed as he looked up at the taller male. The taller's eyes were closed tightly, and his grip on the shorter's hip and shoulder tightened gently, as he kept murmuring the words to the song.  
“You are my sunshine... My only sunshine...”  
Ermac bit his lip, gently removing his hand from his lover's shoulder to cup his face, thumb stroking his dark coloured cheek. Surprisingly smooth. But then, it always had been.   
Wouldn't be for much longer.  
“You make me... H-happy, when skies are gray...”  
Ermac winced as Noob's voice cracked on the word ‘happy.’ To be expected, though. Everyone else was dead. Kuai, Leah, Jiang, Ambrosio... Everyone that Noob cared about. All but Ermac, and they both knew that he, too, would be dead soon.  
“Noob,” Ermac murmured, kissing the taller male gently. Normally, their kisses were rough but loving. Now it was gentle and light, but perhaps the most loving one that they'd shared in all the years they'd been together.   
“Gods I–... I love you, Ermac.” Noob was hardly able to say this, his voice cracking, and more tears sprang forth from his milky, beautiful white eyes. “So, so fucking much...”  
“We love you too, Noob,” Ermac mumbled into the kiss, feeling his own tears come about. “You are our everything... Forever, and always...”  
When the two broke the kiss for air, Noob wrapped both of his arms around Ermac's waist, and Ermac wiped away his tears, smiling despite the fact that the telltale, gruesome and wet growls from the undead were nearing them.  
“Don't cry, love,” he whispered. “We'll be together, after this.”  
Noob nodded numbly, burying his face into Ermac's shoulder as he gave a faint sob.  
“Y-you'll never know, d-dear, h-how much I l-love you,” he continued softly, breaths hitching in quiet, wrenching sobs.  
Ermac let his eyes close as he gently rubbed his beloved's back, inhaling and exhaling slowly. In, out. In, out. In... Out.   
The zombies were practically on top of them. Noob had already gone silent. Ermac knew it: he was gone.  
In, out... In... Out... In...  
Out.


	7. Bad Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone got mad at me for the last chapter so i wrote fluff

Ermac woke up with a jolting start, breathing quick and ragged, and for a moment he had no clue where he was.   
He felt someone shift next to him, and when his emerald eyes focused, he saw that it was his lover.  
But—the apocalypse, the-the zombies, they–he... We–  
Saibot shifted again, giving a tiny grumble of incoherent Chinese in his sleep, and Ermac felt his body relax instinctively. After working to calm himself down, he gently brushed some of Noob's dark, long, and silky hair from his face, before cupping his cheek, thumb stroking it.  
Surprisingly smooth.   
Then again, it always had been.  
There was no traces of any apocalyptic, well, anything.  
“Just a bad dream,” Ermac assured himself in a soft mumble, though his breathing was still quickened.  
One of Noob's white eyes opened, and he looked hazily at Ermac.  
“Whhts wwrongg...?” he grumbled out, words slurred almost drunkenly.   
“Nothing, love... Nothing,” Ermac murmured, though he was also trying to reassure himself.  
Noob grumbled, opening his other eye and taking his arms from Ermac's waist to cup his face with both hands.  
“C’mmon... ttell meee,” he slurred, pressing a kiss to Ermac's nose, and Ermac smiled very faintly. A tired Noob was a cute Noob.  
“Nothing, love... We–... Nothing,” Ermac repeated, and Noob gave a dramatic sigh, before pouting.   
“Ttelllll mme, Ermmacc,” he whined, giving his lover a pleading look.  
Ermac sighed. “We... You and us were... in an apocalypse. Kuai, Leah, Jiang... Ambrosio... All dead,” he mumbled, avoiding looking at Noob, as if when he did it would all come back and this was just a dream. “We both knew we would die soon, and...” He broke off, shaking his head.  
“S’only a bbad ddream, ssweetheartt,” Noob murmured (at least he's coherent enough right now to actually hear and understand what we're saying, Ermac reflected) softly, kissing Ermac's lips gently for a brief moment before looking him in the eyes, wrapping one arm around his waist and bringing him close. “Juss’a bad dream,” he mumbled, and Ermac nuzzled his face into his neck. Noob rested his chin on top of Ermac's head, rubbing his back. “Prommiss that...”  
Ermsc nodded slightly, wrapping his arms tightly around Noob, closing his eyes as if to shut out the nightmares.  
Noob sighed, kissing the top of Ermac's head gently. “Go back to ssleep, love,” he murmured, closing his own eyes with a tiny yawn. “N’juss remember it's juss’a nightmare...”  
“Alright...” Ermac sighed faintly. “We love you.”  
“Love you tttoo...”  
Ermac managed a faint smile, and he let himself slowly drifting back to sleep, safe in Noob's arms.


	8. Afterlife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sektor and cyrax finally find peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> want angst? try listening to the undertale ost his theme/undertale while reading. maybe. idk man it might be angsty

"Am I... Dead?"  
His words echoed hollowly around the meadowy plains, and the only response he received was a soft, warm wind blowing over him.  
"I believe... You are. I think... I think I am, too," came a familiar, deep voice behind him.  
Slowly, he turned, feeling to be in a dreamlike state. There was Sektor, looking at his hands.  
Human.  
Like everything else, his outline was just barely fuzzy, and his voice seemed to echo.  
Slowly, he looked down at his own hands to find them human. He, too, was slightly fuzzy.  
"Hou...?" He murmured, looking back up to Sektor. "Is this the afterlife...?"  
Sektor glanced around for a moment. "I think so, Fenyang."  
Fenyang laughed softly. "It is much more pleasant than I imagined."  
"So this is it?" Hou asked, mostly himself. "No resurrection? I didn't think my theory was wrong, but..."  
Fenyang slowly made his way over to Hou, setting a hand on his shoulder. A warm, sympathetic smile crossed his face. "We can't all be right all the time, can we?"  
Hou chuckled softly, reaching a hand behind his head to let his raven black hair out of it's ponytail.  
"I suppose we can't," he agreed, though somewhat solemnly, shaking his head to allow his hair to cascade down his shoulders and face. He then snaked an arm around Fenyang's waist, pulling him close. "For an example; I... I was not right about the Cyber Initiative."  
Fenyang winced slightly, before resting his chin on Hou's shoulder. "It's alright, Hou. It's... It's in the past, now. It's just a memory."  
"It got us both killed," Hou sighed, rubbing Fenyang's back. "If I had not been so arrogant..."  
"Enough," Fenyang said softly, capturing Hou's lips in a soft, breif kiss. When he pulled back, he reached both hands up to gently cup his face. "It's in the past, and at least we're together again. Think not of the negatives, think of the positives, Hou. Look at the beauty around us!" He murmured, drawing a hand back to gesture at the fields around them.  
"Fenyang. It would be easy for you to look past, as it was not your actions that had consequence. Think of... Think of it from my view, Fenyang... The things... Oh, gods, the thinks I called you. The things I did to you, I-"  
Again, Fenyang pressed his lips against Hou's, and he held it this time. Tenderly, almost as if he were afraid he would harm Fenyang, Hou kissed back, closing his eyes and finding that they were tear-brimmed. Fenyang similarly closed his eyes, leaning into the kiss and settling his arms around Hou's torso.  
"I love you, so much," Hou mumbled into the kiss, and all Fenyang could do in response was deepen the kiss, pouring all of his love for Hou into it.  
When they finally broke apart for air, Fenyang smiled reassuringly at Hou. "I never stopped loving you, Hou. Now, please, might you focus on now?"  
"I suppose... I can," Hou murmured, smiling weakly in return.  
Fenyang grinned, burying his face momentarily into Hou's neck. "I love you," he said softly, finding that tears had begun to fall from his eyes. Not tears of sorrow, but rather, tears of happiness. Happiness that he was, again, with Hou.  
Hou brought a hand up to stroke Fenyang's hair, closing his eyes and exhaling a soft sigh. "I love you just as much, Fenyang. I'm glad to be with you, again," he murmured, voice weak. Tears had started to fall from his eyes, too. Sorrow and joy mixed into one—sorrow for what he had done, but joy that he and Fenyang had been reunited, and that Fenyang still loved him.  
"I'll always love you, Fenyang."  
"I'll always love you, too, Hou. Please don't ever think otherwise."


	9. Insults

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sektor is creative with insults

"What was the point in bringing me here? We have a contract to complete," Sektor sighed, looking about, before looking to Cyrax as he approached him, a smile on his face as he offered a boquet of flowers.  
"For you, love."  
A slight blush dusted Sektor's cheeks as he accepted the flowers. "You didn't answer my question, Fenyang. We're in Japan, in the middle of a contract, and you bring me here. What's the point?"  
Cyrax huffed softly, wrapping his arms around Sektor's torso. "Can't you just appreciate how beautiful it is? Anyways, Hou, I figured that your Japanese ass would enjoy this."  
Sektor wrapped his arms around Cyrax, rolling his eyes, a smile working it's way onto his face. "I suppose I do."  
"Isn't it all so beautiful?" Cyrax purred, kissing Sektor's cheek.  
"Not as much as you, Fenyang," Sektor chuckled, smiling when he saw a blush form on Cyrax's cheeks. He then pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, rubbing his back lovingly. For a moment he rested there, closing his eyes, Cyrax's face nuzzled against his chest, his lips gently pressed to his forehead.  
"Hey, gay fucks, get a room!" Someone called. Sektor opened his eyes and glanced over to an American man with a beer gut, a balding head, five chins, food stuck between the flaps, and a cheeseburger and hotdog in each hand.  
"You're merely jealous that you can't find someone for yourself, you pasty-ass fruit roll-up!" Sektor called back, adding an insult in Japanese at the end that would roughly translate to something along the lines of, "even stupid American sluts desperate for dick wouldn't want you—you probably have so many flaps of skin down there that it looks like a vagina, anyways!"  
Cyrax began to giggle into his chest.  
"I guess you could call it a mangina," he giggled, and Sektor snorted. "Perhaps so. He's just jealous that I'm getting more action than he's ever gotten—and all we're doing is hugging."  
The man only seemed to be angered by Sektor's remarks. "Now, listen here, you squinty-eyed fucker-"  
"Oh, ow, my feelings. How hurt am I. I've been mortally wounded," Sektor said sarcastically. "Avenge me, Cyrax, for I hath been slain by a loaf of white bread."  
Now the man was storming over, his layers of fat jiggling as if they were their own people. "I'll only say it one more time, faggot, get a fucking room."  
"Dig me a grave, Cyrax. I die, o, I die."  
Cyrax giggled even more.  
The American glared. "Very funny."  
"Yes, I would think so," Sektor replied casually. "Can't you leave a man and his lover in peace? Go back to your fatass country and overeat on your hotdogs and whatnot. Japan is a fine country, not fit for the likes of you."  
"If I have to go back to my country, why not send that-... That nigg—"  
Without hesitation, Sektor swiftly let go of Cyrax and had produced a dagger and was holding it to the man's throat, all in one smooth motion.  
"Listen here, you fatass piece of shit," he hissed, dark eyes like coal in a fire, "you're going to take that back, and you're going to do it right now. I could care less what a person says about me, but the second you insult Cyrax, you lay on your deathbed. Cyrax is not, and will not ever be that absolutely repulsive word, and I do not tolerate people calling him it. He is a strong, intelligent man. Far smarter than you. Far stronger than you. But he hates violence and bloodshed. I excite it on a whim, and though these grounds are beautiful, I would love to stain them with your pathetic American blood. I could slit your throat now and it would be over, or I could gut you and leave you to suffer a slow, painful death. Or I could gut you, slit your throat and then hang you from a tree by your intestines, or–"  
"I t-take it back, you f-fucking freak! N-now let me g-go!" The fat man sobbed.  
Sektor drew back after running the dagger across his throat just enough to make it bleed a little. "Run away, little coward, lest I decided to kill you anyways."  
The fat man quickly turned and ran, and Sektor sighed in exasperation.  
Cyrax gently set a hand on Sektor's shoulder. "Hey. You didn't have to do that, you know. Not for me."  
Sektor merely turned and pulled Cyrax into a tight, loving embrace. "But I did, Fenyang," he murmured. "You are not that word, and I refuse to allow anyone to call you it. I love you, Fenyang, and I do this out of love."  
A light blush dusted Cyrax's cheeks. "Ah... Hou..."  
"Hush, my love," Sektor mumbled, pressing his lips against Cyrax's in a soft, but passionate kiss. Cyrax quickly kissed back, closing his eyes and cupping Sektor's cheek. Sektor closed his eyes as well, settling a hand gently on top of Cyrax's and intertwining their fingers.  
When they broke the kiss for air, Cyrax smiled slightly but lovingly at Sektor. "I love you, Hou. You're perfect, you know that?"  
"Ah, Fenyang... It is you who is perfect."  
Cyrax shook his head. "No. Not as much as you, love. I'm so, so to have you..." He trailed off, resting his cheek on Sektor's chest.  
Sektor looked down to him and stroked his hair gently, sighing and closing his eyes.  
"Gods," he murmured, "how did someone like me manage to make someone as flawless as you fall in love with me?"  
Cyrax kissed his chest gently. "Simply been yourself, and never hide behind a fake personality as so many people do. You're not afraid to be yourself, and that's something that I admire, and one of the many reasons I fell in love with you. Even when we first began to really talk, when you first came to me due to your flamethrowers malfunctioning, you didn't try to hide your personality. You've always been very straightforward and to the point, and you don't sugarcoat things. The world needs more people like you, Hou. You can, admittedly, be rather stubborn at times, and sometimes frustrating, but everyone has their flaws."  
Sektor found himself to be blushing immensely at his lover's words.  
"Fenyang..."  
"I love you," Cyrax murmured.  
Sektor cupped Cyrax's face and lifted it so he could look at him in his eyes. He then smiled softly. "I love you, just as much. You're my world, Fenyang."  
Now it was Cyrax's turn to blush.  
"Ah... You're my world, too, Hou. You've helped me through so much."  
"Have I? I'm glad, then. You're the light of my life, Fenyang," Sektor murmured, pressing his lips to his forehead. "I hope you know that."  
Cyrax's face flushed red. "Ah..."  
Sektor chuckled, holding Cyrax close. "Mm... The only thing I don't like about this park is that I can't see the stars."  
"Yeah... Damn city lights..."  
Sektor smiled. "Ah, no matter. The light in your eyes is brighter than ten thousand stars, Fenyang."  
Cyrax squeaked softly and buried his face into Sektor's neck. "Ah... How flattering."  
"Mmm... You know what is truly flattering?" Sektor murmured.  
"Mm?" Cyrax hummed, looking up at Sektor.  
"You."  
Cyrax blushed more. "Stoppittt, you're making me blush."  
Sektor grinned. "Wanna know something cuter than a kitten?"  
"What?"  
"You."  
Cyrac blushed even more, his entire face red.  
"Do you know what I like even more than insulting people in creative ways?"  
After a moment, Cyrax giggled. "Fucking... Pasty-ass fruit roll-up... Mm, what is it?"  
Sektor chuckled, kissing his forehead. "You."


	10. Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first in the works of shangchi, one of my two newest ships, to be added to the mix, shang gets sick and chi is just trying to help ok sh don't judge him he's doing his best

“Shang, you're sick, you cannot simply go into the flesh pits expecting to not get even more sick. You will be staying here until you are no longer sick,” Quan Chi says in his normal, disinterest, calm voice.  
The sorcerer in question gives a huff, narrowing his light brown eyes and watching Chi calmly go about his business around the room.  
“And why is that so?” he questions, sentence punctuated by a coughing fit.  
Chi only vaguely gestures in the direction of Shang, as if to point out that the coughing is a prime example.  
Shang rolls his eyes, shifting slightly in his position, which is buried in a mound of blankets (with a cat, or five, huddled around him, too), and watching the demon with a disappointed look in his eyes.  
“You don't have to baby me. I'm plenty old enough to take care of myself, you know, I can-”  
“You are a human. Humans are... Fragile.” Chi doesn't even bother glancing over to Shang as he says this, tone unchanged from the normal. Shang manages to shake enough of the blankets off of himself to be able to reach out and pet one of the cats that lays by his leg, causing the other four to begin meowing in protest about why isn't it me you're petting, and he returns his attention to Chi.  
“Fragile? Compared to a demon such as yourself, perhaps, but humans are-”  
“Generally stubborn and refusing to admit their weaknesses, so sure they can overcome anything that happens across them even when someone who shows a margin of caring for them attempts to prevent them from hurting themselves?” Chi offers, a sliver of amusement crawling into his tone, and Shang glares half-heartedly at him.  
“Oh, whatever. If you really must be such a bother about it, why not do something productive and come over here?” he grumbles.  
“For what purpose?” Chi asks, and then realizes a second after he speaks what the sorcerer wants. Silently and without protest, he simply makes his way over to the couch that Shang is stretched out upon, and allows himself to simply sit next to the sorcerer. Instantly, as if Chi is a magnet, Shang glues himself to the demon, clinging onto him affectionately and nuzzling his face against the front of his shoulder. Grinning up at Chi, he chuckles.  
“A relief that demons cannot get sick as humans can, yes?”  
Chi only rolls his uncanny crimson eyes, wrapping one arm around Shang's waist after a moment. The five cats that had previously been laying with Shang now curl up around the both of them, and several other cats join those five, one—a beautiful grey and white ragdoll—even approaches with tiny little kittens following after on tiny paws, and the little family of cats settle at both Chi and Shang's laps, purring quietly and curling into small balls of fluff.  
Chi idly strokes a cat that chooses to rest in his lap, and with his other hand he gently rubs Shang's side. He can't tell if Shang is awake or asleep, but he supposed either is fine because Shang is quite adorable either way. Sick, he may be, but Chi knows for a damn fact that he's going to have to keep close eyes on him. Lest he go to the flesh pits and get even more sick. Or make everything there sick, as an alternative. Or, even worse, make everything there sick and get more sick.  
At least Chi doesn't need to sleep, since Shang is quite determined to work on his genetic experiments.


	11. Aquariums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shitty subsmoke drabblet i did at like four in the morning, smoke is a big ol nerd

Sometimes... Breaks are good.   
The smoky assassin has realized this already, but what better way to spend a break than to go to an aquarium?  
“We're wasting valuable time, you know,” a gentle, but somewhat unamused voice sighs, bringing Smoke back to reality.  
He smiles at Tundra, nudging him gently.  
“Hey, c'mon, lighten up, look at all the fish and have fun!” he says, and Tundra shrugs.  
“Tell me that when Bi-Han is yelling at us for having ‘not done our job properly.’”  
Smoke frowns now and nudges Tundra again.  
“Oh, come on, don't think like that! We did everything we needed, we just have to finish up the mission tonight!”   
He's glad there's no others around, because it gives him a perfect excuse to press a quick, teasing kiss to Tundra's cold, pale cheek, and it gives him the satisfaction of watching him blush.  
“Tomas-!” Tundra exclaims, a light rose coloured blush dusting his cheeks.   
Smoke smiles innocently. “What? Had to lighten up the mood somehow. Be in the moment, Kuai! Take a moment to just relax and look at how pretty the fish are! See, look at the sharks, aren't they pretty? And look at the stingrays, oh Elder Gods-”  
Tundra smiles faintly and watches Smoke, listening to the sound of his pleasant voice as he goes on and on about the different types of fish. It's rather adorable to see his golden eyes lit up with that mixture of fascination and happiness as he rambles about what he knows already about the fish and the things he wants to know about them.  
Everso often he nudges Tundra and points out a particular fish and spouts off a few facts about it. Tundra is more than content to simply listen to this. After all, in his eyes, that's one of the most important aspects of love:  
Being listened to, and above that, being a good listener.


	12. Bydro snippet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bi-han and hydro is my newest ship so take this writing

“To hell with this!”   
The cryomancer paces back and forth at the balcony, glaring out across the city's lights.   
Upon the couch is sprawled out Fannar Dagurson, better known as Hydro, watching his friend pace through half-lidded green eyes.  
“You okay?” he calls, his soft but low voice wreathed softly with an Icelandic accent. He knows his friend is stressed—that's for sure—but he doesn't know all the mission details, and he's near certain his accomplice does.  
Heaving a rather loud, annoyed sigh, the cryomancer turns to look at Hydro, blue eyes showing his anger and stress.  
“Yeah. I'm fine,” he says.  
“Evidently, that's not so,” Hydro points out, gesturing lazily to the ice that's crawling up Sub-Zero's arm qnd is forming all across the railing of the balcony. “Come here, Bi-Han. Isn't there rules against displaying our powers outside of the Temple unless on a mission and not in public, anyways?” He jokes softly, earning a scathing glare from the man of ice. He simply laughs it off, however, patting the couch next to him.  
Reluctantly, Sub-Zero departs from the balcony, sliding the glass door shut behind him and allowing himself to fall onto the shit-grade couch that the hotel provided. It's grey and the material is itchy against his exposed skin, but he can make due. Hydro shoots him a modest grin as he leans just slightly over, just enough to be considered leaning against the cryomancer as he flicks his nose. Sub-Zero swats at the other's hand.   
“Hey-!”  
Again, Hydro flashes him that modest, adorable grin, and he can't help but admire his soft, pale features and his slightly rounded but not chubby cheeks, with those cute little freckles, and how perfectly his wavy, jaw-length blonde hair compliments his light green eyes.  
“Oh, lay off,” Sub-Zero grumbles, turning his face away in an attempt to conceal the pale, rosy blush that's made it's way onto his cheeks. Hydo simply pokes the blush, sticking his tongue out.  
“What's this? Is Sub-Zero—the Sub-Zero—blushing? My, my, líta á það sem við höfum hér, gott fólk... The man of ice blushes! For me, a mere hydromancer? How touching!”   
“Oh, shut up, Fannar. You're a hydromancer and cryomancer, and of course I'm going to blush when you keep... S-smiling like that,” the man of ice mutters.  
Hydro laughs at this, grinning once again, that infuriatingly perfect, adorable smile. “Það virðist sem ég hef jafnvel flustered hann, hversu dásamlegt! Kannski gæti ég-”  
He's cut off by Sub-Zero suddenly grabbing hold of his shoulders and chin and bringing him into a sudden, though surprisingly tender, kiss. Gladly, Hydro kisses back, allowing his arms to settle around Sub-Zero's torso, and he allows Sub-Zero to pull him into his lap and curl one arm around his waist, the other still extended upward and cupping his cheek with care. Hydro presses his body against Sub-Zero's cold body, relishing in the sweet kiss. When they break apart, Sub-Zero averts his gaze, that same pale rose coloured blush even more evident on his pale cheeks now than it had been moments before.  
“Wǒ ài nǐ, báichī,” he mutters, and Hydro can't help but grin again. “Me? I'm the idiot? Oh well. Love you, too, snjókast.”


	13. "In Your Arms"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more shangchi bullshit

Silence.  
Gentle, calm. Like a cool blanket in a summer's night.  
But in this case, the "summer's night" is just the regular heat that all of Netherrealm bathes in, and the "cool blanket" is not the silence, but rather the strong, cool arms of Shang's lover draped across his torso, holding him gently but securely.  
He, in turn, locks his arms tightly around the demon, pressing as close to him as possible and nuzzling his face against his chest, listening to his calm breathing and steady heartbeat.  
The demon's noticed that Shang has become rather clingy, and while he doesn't understand fully as to why, he doesn't verbalize his confusion. He figures it's best to let it be.  
Shang glances up to his lover; he's good at telling when he's asleep, and he's clearly not.  
“Is something troubling you, Chi?” he asks softly. His accent is even more prominent now, as he's tired, and Chi can't help but find it quite adorable.  
“Mm? I am fine, Shang,” Chi responds in his deep, calm voice. “Why do you ask?”  
Shang shrugs, nuzzling closer to Chi and inching his way up to nuzzle his face just against Chi's neck.  
“I'm not sure. You just... Seem like there is something troubling you, I suppose... I don't know how to explain it,” he mumbles against Chi's cool skin, allowing one eye to fall shut.  
One of Chi's hands makes it's way up to tangle gently in Shang's luscious hair.  
“I suppose I am merely confused about why you have become even more clingy to me, now. Far more then you were before-...”  
He trails off; neither he, nor Shang, enjoy mention of Shang's death coming up.  
Shang nods quietly, gently massaging the powerful muscles on Chi's back.  
“Yes... That...” He sighs, pulling back to glance up at Chi, ghosting his lips across his jaw. “Ten years of solitude, accompanied by the knowledge of your lover being, well-... Dead, as well as both of your daughters being dead, or presumed dead, and the constant threat of death, with a side of depression and separation anxiety-... It does a lot to you. If you're human, that is.” Shang laughs bitterly at his own words. “Oh, how many times did I consider letting those damn Revenants kill me... How many times did I consider ending my own life because there was nothing left for me here; nothing but what seemed to be only hell...”  
Chi glances to Shang, seeming at least mildly worried for him.  
“Shang...”  
Shang waves him off, burying his face into him chest, perhaps to hide that he's on the verge of tears.  
“I'm terrified of those Revenants. I admit it. I cling to you only because I'm terrified this is all a dream and I'll wake up to nothing—the bed is empty and cold, sheets practically undisturbed, and the only company I have is depression, paranoia, separation anxiety, and the constant threat of the Revenants... They taunted and mocked me-... So much... I-I... I'm scared to lose you again, Chi -...” He breaks off and dares to look up at his lover. The vague look of worry written on Chi's face makes Shang feel worse; he hates worrying him.  
“Chi, I-...”  
Chi gently brings a hand up to cup Shang's face, and he lovingly strokes his cheek, before tenderly kissing him. It's a little awkward for him to do, since he hardly initiates the affection, but he figures he can set his comfort zone aside right now; Shang needs some sort of comfort, and Chi's figured out that verbal comfort is not his strongest skill.  
Shang's eyes widen for a moment in surprise, though he hurriedly kisses back, pressing as close to Chi as possible, relaxing as he feels Chi's arm that's still around his waist bring him closer, rubbing his side.  
When the kiss is broken for air, Shang nuzzles his face against Chi's neck once more, gently kissing his throat and jaw.  
Silence falls over them, though it's a calm, loving silence, in which they simply appreciate each other's presence and the feeling of holding one another close.  
“I... Love you,” Chi says after a moment, voice soft and slow, as if he's not sure he's saying it right.  
Shang presses another soft kiss to his jaw, massaging his back once again. He's content for the moment, now.  
“I love you, too.”  
Chi smiles faintly. “Mm. You'd better.”  
Shang sighs softly, nuzzling his face against the demon's neck again.  
“I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than here in your arms, my love...”  
A slight, lavender blush makes it's way onto Chi's cheeks upon hearing the term of affection used by Shang.  
“I'm glad, then... Rest, now, Shang—you most certainly need it.”  
Shang huffs softly, but grudgingly nods. “I suppose I do... I love you, Chi. So much-...”  
Chi merely strokes his hair, holding him close. A subtle and simple way to tell Shang that he loves him, too.


	14. Compassion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's Real Sad Boye Hours and chi tries to comfort shang

“You have been quiet today,” the demon comments, glancing down to the shape of Shang Tsung, who is curled up at his side, long black hair obscuring his face, which is pressed to the demon's pale, broad chest.  
“Is that so?” Shang mumbles, his voice quiet even now.  
“Yes; even now so, I know you are not tired. Tell me, Shang, what bothers you?” Chi inquires, tightening his arm around Shang's waist just slightly and bringing him closer.  
Shang glances up at Chi, shaking some of his ebony hair from his face, and offers a faint smile.  
“Nothing troubles me, I promise.”  
There is a sense of doubt behind the words, and Chi allows a soft sigh.  
“Is it... Emotion based?”  
Hesitation, before a soft response; “Somewhat, yes...”  
Chi brings his hand up from Shang's waist to gently brush the strands of black from Shang's face, stroking his thick, soft hair.  
“Please, tell me. I shall do my best to understand it.”  
Shang allows a long, drawn out sigh, before pressing his face into the crook of Chi's neck, mumbling out a soft, “its nothing.”  
Chi sighs in frustration, but falls otherwise silent, figuring that Shang would speak regardless.  
As predicted, not but a moment later Shang draws back from Chi's neck, resuming his place upon his chest.  
“My past-,” he begins softly, emotion wreathing his voice.  
“Yes? What of it?”  
“Exactly—... Exactly the question. I can't remember.”  
Chi frowns. “Oh.”   
Shang nods and allows a soft sigh to escape his lips as he presses closer to Chi, squeezing his eyes shut, to prevent any potential tears from spilling.  
“I don't know anything about my past. I don't know what part of China I came from, I don't know what sort of life I held before Outworld, I don't even know-...” His voice breaks with raw emotion; raw, pure despair.  
Chi isn't quite sure how to deal with sadness, let alone that as great as that which he knows his lover is experiencing, so he simply opts to pull Shang on top of him and wrap both arms around him, holding him comfortingly and yet protectively, rubbing his back with one hand. Shang sighs and rests his head against Chi's chest once more.  
“I can't even remember if Shang Tsung is my real name. I can't even remember if I was born male. I know so little about myself, Chi. It... It hurts. It's this aching, neverending pain. I know... I know you can't really understand it, because you-... You never had a human life. And... You still aren't the best with emotions, but-... It means s-so much to me that-...” Shang breaks off, a stifled, shuddering sob wracking his body.  
“It means so much to me that you're... Y-you're at least... Trying. For me... It means so m-much to me,” he finishes softly, nuzzling his face against the soft skin of Chi's neck.  
There is silence for a moment, before Chi speaks, voice surprisingly gentle and soft.  
“I try... I try out of love for you.” His words are slow and calculated, albeit somewhat choppy, as if he is not quite sure if he is saying things correctly, nor is he used to speaking out such feelings.   
“I try my best... To understand emotions, and feelings... Because I love you. Your past—or, in this case, lack of—does not determine who you are, nor does it determine whether I love you or not. I love not a gender, I love not a name, I love not a reputation, I love you. You are what matters to me, not lables, status, or anything of the sort. It is you, Shang, whom I love,” he says softly, once again stroking the sorcerer's hair.  
Shang is silent for a moment, before Chi feels him smile just slightly against his neck.  
“You... You mean it?”  
“Of course,” Chi murmurs, somewhat confused, though trying to not let on, “why would I not?”  
If Shang notices the confusion, he says nothing of it, merely tightening his arms around Chi and drawing back a little, smiling down at Chi. It appears that there are unshed tears in his eyes.  
“Gods... That's... That's so sweet.” Is all he can manage. He then leans down and gently captures Chi's lips in a kiss, allowing his light brown eyes to fall shut, perhaps to prevent the tears from falling.  
Chi brings a hand up to gently cup Shang's face, stroking his cheek lightly with his thumb, taking a moment as he kisses him back to admire his features. He then allows his own crimson eyes to fall shut, and he smiles faintly into the kiss as he hears a soft, near purr-like noise from Shang. Seeing Shang happy makes Chi feel oddly... Fuzzy and warm. Perhaps some form of happiness, too. He isn't sure, but he doesn't mind.  
After several moments, the two break the kiss for air, and Shang smiles down at Chi.  
Chi smiles back at Shang.  
Shang gently lowers his head back to rest on Chi's chest, and he closes his eyes as Chi strokes his hair, simply listening to Chi's slow, calm breathing, and his heartbeat.  
Beside them, a small cat jumps onto the bed, and curls up with a soft purr, pressing it's long, fluffy body against both Chi and Shang's arms.  
Chi smiles a little more at this, leaning his head back and looking up at the darkened ceiling. While he feels somewhat disappointed in himself for having never picked up on Shang's sadness, which he had clearly been hiding for gods knows how long, he supposed that it was a mere combination of his own lack of understanding emotions, and Shang being a quite good actor, when it was needed.  
He is glad for one thing, though; he is glad that he was able to comfort Shang, at least for the time being.  
“I love you,” he hears Shang whisper, and after a moment it occurs to him that Shang is speaking to him, rather than the small feline curled up next to him.  
He continues to stroke Shang's hair lightly as he smiles and shifts his position slightly, pressing a gentle, loving kiss to Shang's forehead.  
“I love you, too.”


	15. Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shang hates being short

“Chiiiiiiii,” the sorcerer whines, looking up at the necromancer, who's hunched over a desk.  
“Yes, Shang, what is it.” Quan Chi's voice is monotone; it's clear he's only half listening, apparently absorbed in whatever he's working on. Shang is draped across a chair, one leg splayed out upon the arm of the chair, the other propped up on the back. The rest of his body hangs off the edge of the chair; he's looking up at Quan Chi upside-down.   
“Chiiiiiiiiii,” he whines once again, this time in a more demanding, notice-me-dammit manner.  
Chi glances over finally, raising a brow.  
“I won't even ask the point of you sitting like that.”  
Shang shoots Chi a snarky grin.  
Chi rolls his crimson eyes before letting out a huff. “So. What is it you demand my explicit attention for?”  
Shang stretches his arms out for a moment, grunting.  
“Why are you so tall? It's like... Prejudice against short people like me.”  
“You aren't too terribly short,” Chi points out. “The average human male grows to at least five foot nine.”  
Shang whines stubbornly. “Yeah? Well I'm only two inches taller than than, and pretty much every guy I've seen has been at least six foot. Usually six three.”  
“Your point?”  
Shang grumbles something in Chinese, sliding off of the chair and onto the floor. Chi looks down at him with a blank expression.  
“You're only, metaphorically, making yourself even shorter by doing that, you know.”  
Shang glares half-heartedly at Chi.  
Chi merely chuckles.   
Shang rolls onto his back, crossing his arms and staring up at Chi through narrowed eyes.  
“I'm becoming one with my people.”  
“Your people-?”  
“Ants. Because they're tiny too.”  
This causes Chi to legitamately snort. “They are also quite strong for their size.”  
“Exactly,” Shang responds, a smug undertone to his voice, “I'm tiny and all, but I can kick ass.”  
Chi smiles a little, crouching and looking down at Shang.  
“Alright, get up; you'll mess your hair up.” Of course he would use the hair against Shang. Anything but the hair.  
Shang quickly sits up, scooting over to Chi and pressing his face against the necromantic sorcerer's arm. He then looks up at Chi snd offers him a smile. He then leans over, thankful that Chi isn't wearing the spiked part of his outfit, and presses a light kiss to his cheek before returning his face to where it was, cheek pressed against Chi's arm.  
Chi gently curls an arm around Shang's waist for a moment before seeming to perk up.  
“You seem to... Strongly dislike being short, yes?” he asks.   
Shang nods. “Well, of course I do. Why else would I complain so much?”  
He, too, then perks up a little, grinning up at Chi.  
“You should lift me up. Let me sit on your shoulders, or something. You're tall, and strong, it would be win-win.”  
Chi arches a brow. “Mm?”  
Shang has already stood up, grinning like an idiot, which is oddly endearing to Chi. He settles himself on Chi's shoulders, seeming incredibly happy.  
“Do you trust yourself to not fall?” Chi asks.  
Shang nods, smiling.  
“Of course I trust myself! Why wouldn't I?” he responds.  
“You do realize you will be quite high up, yes?” Chi asks.  
Shang nods, still smiling.   
“Yes,” he purrs, clearly happy, “I am well aware.”  
Chi waits a moment, before shrugging simply and standing up. Shang lets out a surprised squeak, clinging to Chi. Apparently he had not anticipated just how high up he would be.  
“Do you need me to set you back down-?” Chi asks uncertainly.  
“No-!” Shang says quickly. “No, no, I'm just...” he trails off, slowly straightening back up and looking around. It is interesting to him how different things look.  
“I'm fine. This is... Wow-...”  
Chi chuckles. “You make it seem as if you have just traversed a mountain peek and are looking upon the vast forest below.”  
Shang sticks his tongue out, though he knows Chi can't see it.  
“Oh, whatever. Things are different up here, you know. It's like... I've transcended.”  
Chi merely smiles in response to this, glancing up at Shang, who looks very happy.  
Shang leans down, gently cuddling Chi as best he can, a serene smile on his face.  
“You can set me down, now,” he murmurs, sounding content.  
Chi sits, and Shang rolls off his shoulders and crawls to his side, curling up and resting his face against his shoulder, a happy expression clear.  
A cat jumps up and curls up by Shang's leg with a soft 'meow,' nuzzling it's face against his thigh.  
Chi curls an arm around Shang's waist gently, tilting his head back and sighing softly, though it is a happy sigh.  
Shang presses his lips to Chi's shoulder gently, giving a soft, content sigh as well.  
“I love you,” he says softly, his voice tender and quiet.  
Chi simply smiles and leans over, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to the sorcerer's forehead.  
His way of telling him that he loves him, too.


	16. Steamy Cytor stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ya uhhh sex.

Things have been... Difficult for them both as of late. Only recently have they been revived—revived, so it seems to Cyrax, for the sole purpose of destroying the robotic menace who calls itself Triborg—by the power of Shinnok's Amulet (or as Ermac calls it, the Hellfire Amulet. Cyrax prefers that over the real name), and even more recently that he and Sektor have been able to put the Cyber Initiative behind them and slowly build their relationship up again from the bloodied dust it had crumbled into. Cyrax has grown depressed and anxious since their revival, and Sektor does what he can do help, though they both know he isn't too talented in helping others. Most days—and today is no exception—Cyrax simply lays around, refusing to emerge from the room he shares with Sektor, simply opting to sit on the edge of the bed and stare out of the window at the snow-covered forest beyond. He's still trying to get used to this place and all the snow around. He would hate to go snow-blind.   
He can hear Sektor entering the room, but he doesn't bother turn to look. He only stares out the window, perhaps lost in memories of a life long gone. A life lived once, then tainted by corruption, then suddenly, forcefully ended.  
He only stirs from his apparent meditation when Sektor settles himself behind Cyrax and coils his tanned arms around the darker skinned man's waist, one hand straying rather close to his crotch, instead settling lightly on his inner thigh, while the other simply rests securely on Cyrax's hip.  
Cyrax sighs, feeling Sektor's chest pressed up against his back, feeling his calm breathing and feeling him gently rest his chin on Cyrax's shoulder.  
“I thought you were out training—or something, I don't really know what the rest of you guys do—with Kuai?”  
“I was,” is Sektor's response, gruff voice dropped slightly to a softer, kinder tone—one that is reserved for only Cyrax—, ”but I decided it was best to check on you. It's worrying to everyone that you only stay in here, you know. That I have to bring you food because you don't want to face the others in the clan.”  
“I don't want to face them because I don't have the courage to. I'm hideous, Hou... But enough of that, clearly that's not the only thing you came here to talk to me about. I know you don't have a knife in your pocket,” Cyrax says, shifting his hips back just slightly, to signify the fact that he can feel, quite obviously, Sektor's erection pressing against him from behind, “and your hand is rather coincidentally placed as well...”  
A faint, near devious smile breaks Sektor's face. “Alright, alright, you caught me. I did come here to check on you, yes, but I also came here because-”  
“You're sexually pent up and figure that since things have been, for the most part, back to normal for us as a couple, it would only be fitting to assure that by having sex,” Cyrax finishes smoothly, and after a brief pause, Sektor chuckles, daring to press his lips delicately against Cyrax's neck.  
“You know me just as well as always, dear... Do you want this?” For a moment, Sektor draws back, as if uncertain. Normally, if he wants something, he would do anything to get it at all costs, but Cyrax is the exception to that; he always puts Cyrax's comfort zones before himself, even moreso now after everything that's taken place. Cyrax only shrugs, leaning his head back to expose his neck for Sektor and closing his brown eyes.  
“I see no reason to not.”  
Sektor smiles faintly at this and mumbles something in Japanese, perhaps a term of affection, as he begins pressing quick, dainty little kisses to Cyrax's neck and throat, gently rubbing his inner thigh as he does so.  
A little shiver runs down Cyrax's spine as Sektor does this, and he leans back against the other man. A soft sigh escapes his lips as Sektor's arm tightens around his waist—lovingly and protectively—and he feels Sektor leave a small, but noticeable lovebite on his neck; marking him as his.  
“Ooohh, fuck...”  
Sektor moves to working on removing the upper part of Cyrax's clothes, taking a mental note about the fact that Cyrax seems incredibly self-conscious about it as he meekly assists in the removal of his shirt, and when the cloth is tossed to the side does Sektor see why; there are large, hideous scars all across the man's body, and the largest make a line down his body from his neck to waist.   
No doubt from what I did to him in the end, Sektor thinks grimly, but he doesn't allow himself to dwell on the thought.  
“Turn and look at me, Fenyang,” he murmurs, and Cyrax obediently does so, and it looks like there's tears in his eyes.  
“I'm sorry for being so ugly. I wish I looked like how I used to, and I understand if you don't-”  
He's cut off by Sektor pressing his lips against his own in a passionate, but gentle kiss, and he can't help but melt into it, allowing his tear-brimmed eyes to fall shut as he leans against Sektor and wraps his arms around him.  
Sektor's tongue brushes his bottom lip, asking for permission to enter, and Cyrax willingly opens his mouth just enough for Sektor to slip his tongue in, exploring Cyrax's perfect mouth. A breathless, soft moan escapes Cyrax at this, and Sektor gently pushes him back to be laying down. Moments later the kiss is broken and Sektor simply smiles down at Cyrax, and the smile is full of admiration and love for the younger assassin.  
“You're perfect as is, Fenyang, and I wouldn't want to ever see you try to change yourself. Don't think of yourself as ugly, because you're not. In my eyes, you are beautiful.”  
With this, Sektor begins to trail kisses down Cyrax's neck and to his collarbones, focusing on them for a few moments and relishing in the soft, panting moans that come from Cyrax, before moving down to his chest, focusing in particular on the large scar that is set in the middle of his chest. No doubt where his ribs had been brutally pried open.   
“Oh, fuck, H-Hou,” Cyrax breathes, arching his back as his eyes flutter shut. It seems that the scars have become a sensual area.  
Sektor draws back long enough to strip himself of his own shirt and cast it aside, and then allow his dark hair to fall from it's ponytail, before resuming kissing at Cyrax's perfect, dark skinned body.  
After several more minutes of this, Cyrax gives a soft whine and one of his hands finds it's way down to Sektor's hips, where he tugs on the waistband of his pants.  
Sektor draws back once more, smirking faintly. “Needy, are we...?”  
Cyrax only glares half-heartedly at him.  
Sektor chuckles darkly, in a low, husky tone that sends a shudder throughout Cyrax's body, and he rather quickly strips himself of his remaining clothes, revealing his well muscled legs, a dark stomach trail of black hair, and his erection.  
Cyrax's eyes stray to it and he bites his lip before looking back up at Sektor, a faint smirk playing on his face.  
“You don't have the piercings in, for once. I'm impressed.”  
Sektor brings a hand up to playfully flick his cheek. “Very funny, Fenyang.”  
Cyrax grins, his troubles forgotten completely for the moment, and he begins to strip himself of his remaining clothes. Sektor helps him and it's not long before the both of them are nude.  
Still huddled over Cyrax, Sektor reaches over and grabs a bottle of lube, and Cyrax raises a brow.  
“You brought lube?”  
“I didn't expect you would have any laying around. I got it just for this occasion.”  
“So you bought a bottle of lube just for this?”  
Sektor simply grins and presses his lips briefly to Cyrax's before pulling back and tilting his head.  
“Woukd you like to do the honours, my love?”  
Cyrax bites his lip, silently nodding, and Sektor hands him the bottle of lube. Cyrax deposits a small amount into his hand, and sets it aside before carefully wrapping his hand around Sektor's cock, stroking him and coaxing several delicious groans out of him, shuddering at that low, husky tone.  
After a few minutes, he draws back and gives a little sigh as he rests his head back and closes his eyes, silently telling Sektor that it's his turn.  
Sektor gives a low, purring growl as he smirks and lubes his fingers up, before tracing the flawless curves of Cyrax's body, admiring every part of him, before slipping a finger into his entrance, causing him to moan out and squirm in pleasure. Sektor curls his finger just right, sending Cyrax into a spasm of pleasure, and after a few minutes he adds a second finger in, then not too long later, a third.  
When he seems Cyrax ready, he withdraws his hand, and brings one hand up to stroke his cheek, smiling down at him, affection in his eyes.  
“You ready for me, Mustard Seed?”  
Cyrax smiles a little. “I hate it when you call me that.”  
“But you love it all the same.” With this, Sektor captures Cyrax's lips in a soft kiss as he angles Cyrax's hips with his free hand and enters him.  
Cyrax moans quietly into the kiss, and Sektor waits for a few moments before beginning to move in gentle but deep strokes, and he quickly darts his tongue into Cyrax's mouth as he opens it to let out a breathy moan. This causes him to moan again and he gently tightens his arms around Sektor's well muscled torso. The kiss is eventually broken for air, and both men are panting, and Sektor's hungry mouth gently attaches to the soft skin of Cyrax's neck, kissing and lightly nipping at it and drawing soft, pleasured moans from Cyrax.  
“Oh, f-fuck, Hou,” Cyrax whines out, shivering and digging his nails into Sektor's back; not enough to draw blood, but enough to cause Sektor to shudder.  
Sektor groans something incoherent in Japanese, hair falling down across his shoulders. Cyrax gently tangles one hand in the soft, ebony hair, lightly tugging and eliciting a grunt from Sektor, who gently bites down on Cyrax's neck as response.  
They continue for quite some time until they can't any longer, both drawn to the very limits of their stamina. They made it last as long as they can, and now they're both finally reaching the edge of ectasy.  
“Fuck-”  
That's all the warning Sektor gives before suddenly releasing into Cyrax, shuddering and pumping his hips to ride out his climax. Below him, Cyrax moans out and buries his face into Sektor's neck, digging the nails of one hand into Sektor's back and tugging on his hair with the other hand as he, too, spills, finally coming over the edge.  
When Sektor finally begins to soften, he draws back momentarily from Cyrax to simply admire his elegant, sweaty body, sprawled out on the bed, before inhaling and exhaling softly, laying beside him and pulling him close.  
Cyrax rests his head upon Sektor's chest and listens to his heartbeat, closing his brown eyes and smiling a little.  
“I love you, Hou,” he mumbles, quite clearly worn out.  
“Love you too, Mustard Seed. Worn out?” Sektor chuckles, rubbing Cyrax's side gently.  
Cyrax only nods.   
“Yeah, a little,” he admits after a moment.  
“Rest, then,” Sektor says softly, pressing his lips to Cyrax's forehead softly, “and I shall do the same. We both need it.”


	17. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Subsmoke songfic, Tomáš wants Kuai to lighten the fuck up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was written at like 5 in the morning after staying up for like 19 hours with no sleep and i've been staying up that long for like three days. i apologize for any fuckups

*stop me on the corner  
swear you hit me like a vision  
i–i–i wasn't expecting  
but who am I to tell fate where it's supposed to go?  
With it  
don't you blink; you might miss it  
see, we got a right to just love it or leave it  
you find it and keep it  
'cause it ain't every day you get the chance to say...*

“Come on, Kuai, or we'll miss the sunset and the fireworks!” The silver haired male laughs, tugging along his companion.  
Kuai looks at him with his blue eyes, dark eyebrows raised.  
“We should be focused on the mission, Tomáš.”  
Tomáš turns and looks at Kuai, grinning widely. “C'mon, Kuai, why not lighten up for a little? We hardly ever get time where it's just *us*, so why not enjoy it?”  
With this, he tugs Kuai over to a raised wall of concrete about waist height, overlooking a steep ledge, and he sits on it, gesturing for Kuai to do the same.  
Cautiously, Kuai does, looking around. To the passerby eye, the two of them looking like nothing more than normal teenagers out late for fun.  
Tomáš grabs one of Kuai's hands in his own, grinning again. “Isn't the view great from here? You can see out over the ocean, you can see the sunset and the fireworks are gonna be set off just over there!” He points to a large open area, bustling with people apparently working the display.  
“I see.” Kuai looks at Tomáš and smiles a little, admiring the features on the face of his childhood best friend.  
“Isn't the sky so pretty?” Tomáš sighs, leaning on Kuai and settling his head on the cryomancer's shoulder. Kuai chuckles at this, smiling a little more.  
“It is,” he agrees.

*oh, this is how it starts, lightning strikes the heart  
it goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun  
oh, we could be the stars, falling from the sky  
shining how we want, brighter than the sun*

Tomáš' attention turns to the fireworks display as the first one shoots off into the sky, streaking a pale gold after it and exploding into purple, green and gold, scattering in sparks and falling to the ground, fizzing out slowly and a sizzling noise.  
“Have you ever seen fireworks before, Kuai?” he asks, eyes seeming to sparkle as he watches eagerly for the next one. Kuai shrugs, tilting his head slightly and resting his cheek on Smoke's head. “I don't believe so, no.”  
Tomáš prods him teasingly in the side. “Well, you're gonna love them. Even if you don't, at least you'll have seen them. *And* it would've been with me.”  
Kuai watches as three more fireworks streak into the black and purple sky, exploding into an array of colour. “Mm.” The sides of his lips twitch in a smile as he thinks of all the experiences he's shared with Tomáš. Another one to add to the list.

*i'd never seen it  
but I found this love, I'm gonna feed it  
you better believe  
i'm gonna treat it better than anything I've ever had  
'cause you're so damn beautiful  
read it, it's signed and delivered, let's seal it  
boy, we go together like peanuts and paydays  
marley and reggae  
and everybody needs to get a chance to say...*

Tomáš shifts his position, nuzzling his face into the crook of Kuai's neck to get more comfortable, still watching in excitement at the fireworks.  
“Calm down,” Kuai murmurs softly, amusement in his voice as he pats Tomáš' leg, which is beginning to deform into a smoke plume, “don't get too excited and disappear on me. We aren't supposed to show our abilities unless absolutely necessary, remember?”  
Tomáš nods hastily, quickly reforming and grinning. “Right. Wouldn't want to start up a rumour about the disappearing boy, and his frozen companion.”  
Kuai rolls his eyes, but can't keep a smile from his face as he ruffles Tomáš hair. Tomáš blushes lightly, turning his gaze back to the fireworks display. He sits up for a moment, and stretches, yawning exaggeratedly, and Kuai studies his features once more, noting the freckles on his face starting to show, though they're normally not visible due to the cold climate of the Lin Kuei temple.  
He nestles back up at Kuai's side, grinning again. “At least we look like normal teenagers, eh?”

*oh, this is how it starts, lightning strikes the heart  
it goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun  
oh, we could be the stars, falling from the sky  
shining how we want, brighter than the sun*

Tomáš turns back to look at the sunset and nudges Kuai. “Check out the sunset. It looks like a rainbow, now. It's so *pretty*. And–and look how it's reflecting across the water!”  
Kuai follows his friend's gaze, and nods. “It is rather beautiful,” he agrees. “The stars are starting to show up. We should get back to the hotel soon.”  
Tomáš pouts, flicking Kuai's cheek. “You're too much like your brother, sometimes. C'mon, Kuai, relax and have some *fun*! After all, you're with *me*.” He accentuates this by bringing his face close to Kuai's, their noses almost touching, and he looks seriously into Kuai's eyes, before laughing and drawing back.  
“I diagnose you with a case of overly-seriousidous. My recommendation for treatment is relaxation and letting yourself ignore the mission for even five seconds.”

*everything is like a white out  
'cause we shika-shika shine down  
even when the, when the light's out, but I can see you glow  
G  
got my head up in the rafters, got me happy ever after  
never felt this way before, ain't felt this way before*

“I *am* relaxing,” Kuai protests, and Tomáš shakes his head seriously.  
“I know a relaxed Kuai when I see one, and you are *not* relaxed. What, are you worried Bi-Han or Sektor will materialize from the ground and throttle you if you take your mind off of the mission?” He teases lightly, and Kuai looks away, a faint, frustrated blush on his cheeks.  
“I am not,” he huffs, and Tomáš grins, flicking his nose.  
“So you *are*! Kuai, they're back at the Temple, they won't just *appear*.”  
Kuai sighs. “I know.”  
A breeze takes up and toys with Tomáš' long hair, and Kuai runs a hand through his own hair, and Tomáš quickly curls his arm around Kuai's shoulders, pressing his hand against Kuai's as it's still in his hair and intertwines their fingers.  
“Really, I don't understand how you take all the self-imposed stress. I think if I was half as stressed as you, I'd die.”  
He grabs Kuai's other hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing his knuckles against his own warm, smooth lips.  
“Can't you just let yourself get lost in the festivities?” he asks innocently, tilting his head and studying Kuai intently.

*i swear you hit me like a vision  
i–i–i wasn't expecting  
but who am I to tell fate where it's supposed to go?*

“You know, you're rather attractive. At this rate, though, you'll be going gray before I can ever fully appreciate your looks,” Tomáš comments, and Kuai rolls his eyes, blushing a little.  
“Whatever.”  
“Well, it's true! You don't want to end up looking like *me*, do you?” Tomáš responds with mock seriousness.  
Kuai snorts at this. “*You* look fine with grey hair. And it's certainly not caused from stress, Elder Gods know you hardly have any of that.”  
Tomáš grins cheekily. “Oh, but I do, dear Kuai! Choosing what to eat and what to wear and how to style my hair in the morning is quite the ordeal, you know.”  
“We share a room. You are the most lazy, non-morning person I have ever met, Tomáš Vrbada.”  
“It's all a part of the charm~.”

*oh, this is how it starts (this is how it starts)  
lightning strikes the heart (lightning strikes the heart)  
it goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun  
oh, we could be the stars, falling from the sky (falling from the sky)  
shining how we want, brighter than the sun  
oh, this is how it starts (this is how it starts)  
lightning strikes the heart (lightning strikes the heart)  
it goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun  
oh, we could be the stars, falling from the sky  
shining how we want (shining how we want)  
brighter than the sun*

Tomáš glances back to the festivities, and smiles a little, resting his cheek on Kuai's shoulder once more and sighing happily. “If only Temple life was like this...”  
“With this much noise and festivities? No thank you,” Kuai replies instantly, shaking his head.  
“Bi-Han would kill everyone making noise on the spot, though, so maybe it's not a good idea,” Tomáš snickers, squeezing Kuai's hand. “Your brother *is* pretty grumpy after all.”  
Kuai shrugs. “He is an assassin—and a highly skilled one, at that. Discipline is key.”  
“So you're saying *I'm* not skilled?” Tomáš whines, playful accusation to his tone.  
Kuai huffs. “Not as skilled as Bi-Han, no. I'm not, either, but I hope that one day I will be.”  
“I know. You say it everytime we're on a mission, or training,” Tomáš responds.

*brighter than the sun  
brighter than the sun  
brighter than the sun  
oh-o, yeah, oh-o*

Kuai looks at the fireworks, and tilts his head. “Why are they setting off so many at once?”  
Tomáš sits bolt upright instantly, gripping Kuai's hand tightly. “Its the finale! Oh, Kuai, you've got to watch it, it's so amazing,” he breathes.  
He huddles close to Kuai, leaning against him and still gripping his hand as a series of fireworks suddenly shoot off into the sky, all flying to different heights before exploding with no pattern into plumes of colours, each with its own effects, and Tomáš' eyes sparkle as he watches. Kuai observes in fascination and silent admiration, wondering how much work was put into the exploding devices. Oh well, no matter. They were awfully pretty.  
It's not long until the fireworks are shooting far and few, until the final one is shot off, and the crowd begins to disperse slowly.  
Tomáš turns to Kuai, grinning widely. “So? Did you like it?”  
Kuai takes a moment to consider before nodding. “I did, yes.”  
Tomáš leans close to Kuai's face, apparently satisfied with his answer. “I knew you would. consider it a gift from me to you that I dragged you over here.”

*oh, this is how it starts, lightning strikes the heart  
it goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun  
oh, this is how it starts, lightning strikes the heart  
it goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun  
oh, this is how it starts, lightning strikes the heart  
it goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun  
oh, this is how it starts, lightning strikes the heart  
it goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun.*


	18. Inner Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shang has a lot to unpack, and Quan Chi is more than willing to listen, but for what ends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted fluff. then this happened. this might fall before their relationship, it could be in the beginning, it's really up to the reader to decide. go hogwild man

“You don't /seriously/ think I have no stress in my life, do you?”  
Shang's voice is laced with disbelief and a hint of betrayal as he stares incredulously at his companion, who gazes uncaringly into the distance at the balcony's edge, arms settled casually upon the railings, the dying rays of sunlight catching his suspicious crimson eyes and the cracked gemstone upon his forehead.  
“I did not say that, I merely said as of late you have no stress or worry,” is his calm reply, voice completely disinterested and serene. He doesn't look at Shang as he speaks.  
Shang laughs, a short, harsh barking noise, as he reached behind his head and forcefully rips away the red cloth strip keeping his hair in a neat ponytail, and it falls about his shoulders and face like a cascading, wavy obsidian waterfall.  
“Tell me you're joking.”  
“There is no value in jests.”  
Shang lets out a frustrated growl, turning away from his companion and beginning to pace angrily, scratching at his arms and muttering under his breath.  
“Have you not paid any attention to anything for the past few weeks, Quan Chi?” he spits.  
“It has been the same routine as always; there has been no changes,” Quan Chi says in his dispassionate voice, a matter-of-fact undertone to it.  
“So you /haven't/! Look at me, Quan Chi,” Shang demands, halting in pacing to stand in the threshold separating the balcony from the room.  
Quan Chi does not respond, still looking out at the horizon. In the distance, a dragon silhouette flitters into view for only a second, before disappearing into the darkness again.  
“I /said/ look at me!” Shang repeats, his voice rising slightly, an almost hurt edge to it.  
Quan Chi studies Shang out of the corner of his eye, without moving his head nor body. “Yes?”  
“Look at me,” Shang says for the third time, harshly gesturing to himself, “look at me and tell me that stress is not written upon me like words on a book. Im tired. I'm /already/ going grey—and I have had a fine supply of souls, thank you very much—and I have bags under my eyes. Perhaps by nature of being a Demon you do not understand, but some of us have very real problems. You may be able to go where you please and whenever, as you have no higher power to control you, but I—but /me/, I have Shao Kahn watching my every move, dictating my every action and word and choice. There is nothing—nothing—I can do by daylight that is not his choosing.  
If it were my choice, Quan Chi, I would have been dead a very long time ago, but I can't have that now. If there's one thing the Kahn is exceptional at, it's preventing me from dying. Suicide attempts thwarted, assassins killed before I ever knew of their intents, because once he found out my only want in life was to die, he knew he would do everything in his power to keep me alive. To make me suffer. Because he needs someone to do his dirty work for him, and who better than a Sorcerer who has incredible power, a Sorcerer who consumes the souls of the living to only gain more power? A Sorcerer who can look into the memories and minds of people, and take on the shapes of those they know and love? Tell me, Quan Chi, what was a better option for him? The opportunity was there when he saw me, half dead and alone, and he seized that chance.”  
Quan Chi does not respond, merely quietly studying Shang Tsung still.  
Shang throws his hands up in frustration, turning his face away just as the feeble sunbeams hit him, and it looks like there could be tears in his eyes.  
“He has threatened me so many times over the millennia—do this, magician, do that, Sorcerer, if you don't do this, I'll kill you—and found my weaknesses, for I was a fool. I was a fool to trust him and confide in him. He took me in with a voice like honey and heard my troubles and comforted me with empty words and false promises, that if only I served him I would have everything I could possibly want. And I believed him. He soon grew tired of his acts and revealed his true self, he took what faith and trust I had put into him and he crushed it with a smile on his repulsive face. And I know I have no choice but to serve under him. He would go to lengths unimaginable to assure my life, and assure I serve him, and /only/ him.” Shang breaks off, glaring intently at the ground, hands beginning to shimmer with flames as he clenches his fists tightly. “But it would seem I have not learned from my actions. Here we are—a Demon, and a human. Both known for treachery and disloyalty, always working for our own ends, and yet I pour my troubles out to you, knowing fully well you could use these against me in later times, torment me and torture me with the knowledge.”  
Silence falls between them for a moment, broken only by Shang's quiet, ragged, angry wheezing breaths.  
“Your arms are bleeding,” Quan Chi observes, tone remaining unchanged.  
“I am aware,” Shang spits bitterly. “You have no need of pointing out /more/ weaknesses of mine, for you have all you could ever possibly need in order to use against me, as you likely will.”  
“What makes this certain?” Quan Chi asks, and Shang looks up at him through narrowed eyes as he sneers, bearing his teeth in a more sorrowful than angry grin.  
“I said it already; you are a Demon, and known well for betrayal. You will act caring to a person only to gain more power for yourself and further your own goals—hence why you have no higher power; you /are/ the higher power.”  
“Times change,” the Demon says simply, turning his gaze once again to the horizon. “You need rest,” he adds on afterwards before Shang can reply.  
Shang opens his mouth to reply, then closes it, apparently confused. “What do you mean, ‘times change’?”  
“I mean what it sounds,” Quan Chi says rather cryptically, shrugging his shoulders. Shang growls.  
“Don't speak in riddles with me, Demon, else I'll have your head.”  
“Yet you cannot not bring yourself to truly harm me.”  
“How do you know!? I'll show you the meaning of pain, you—”  
“Enough. Bandage your wounds and rest, Shang Tsung, you will have a bustling day tomorrow, as always, will you not?” Quan Chi cuts in calmly.  
Shang blinks. “I–... Why act so caring? We both know that you're talking falsely.” His voice falters. “Trying to gain my trust only to break it. It won't happen.”  
“I beg to differ; did you not, if I do recall correct, just pour out your troubles to me?”  
Shang clenches his fists, at a loss for words.  
“You trust only one person. Why her in particular?” Quan Chi continues. “Because she has shown herself loyal and worthy of your trust. What is to make another magic-user untrustworthy?”  
“Reputations play into quite much,” Shang hisses through clenched teeth and a tightly set jaw.  
“A reputation does not define a person.”  
Shang laughs coldly. “In our cases, it does quite well.”  
Quan Chi turns his head slightly to look at Shang. “Perhaps that is correct. But you close yourself off to all possibility of good, focusing soley on what is bad and what could go wrong. Do you stop to consider what could be, in a sense of good?”  
“Is there any ‘good’ about either of us?” Shang asks bitterly. “No.”  
Quan Chi nods slowly. “Another correct observation, and two wrongs do not make a right, but you fail to consider that perhaps you draw sympathy from those around who see you like—” he gestures vaguely to Shang, “—this. Additionally, perhaps without realizing, you have already put some degree of trust within me, else you would not allow me to so freely stand at your balcony, and you would not tell me your troubles and your past.”  
Shang turns away, sighing. “Whatever. You are right, I need rest, so just go. We can finish this conversation tomorrow.” He suddenly looks quite weak and defeated, and he limps off out of sight, and Quan Chi traces his movements with those glittering blood red eyes, unblinking. When the Sorcerer is gone, he turns his head back out to the horizon, staring at the dim rainbow hue sky before wordlessly opening a portal and disappearing through it, leaving not a trace of his presence.


End file.
